


Now, Forever

by Kuri



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, M/M, Reincarnation sort of-AU, SNK sort-of AU, snk kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:31:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuri/pseuds/Kuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SNK kink meme fill</p>
<p>The young boy looks like Levi, just like <i>his</i> Levi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now, Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=4874528#cmt4874528
> 
>  
> 
> And summer-hero on tumblr drew some lovely fanart for it! http://erururururi.co.vu/post/71648401276/a-sketch-tribute-to-now-forever-fic-by-kuri

 

It's already been five years, but the odd feeling of being able to wake up in the mornings without having to worry over strategies and formations or his men or _Levi_ is still a strange, unfamiliar thing to Erwin. Sometimes he wonders if he'll ever get used to it, when he idles around his little house, still thinking about the war, thoughts of maybe he should have done _this_ instead, what if they modify the new scouting formation a little, shift more units to the rear guard, maybe he'll mention it to Armin the next time he comes over with Eren and Mikasa. And then he remembers how Mike and Levi and _Hanji_ , out of all people, _really_ , used to accuse him of being so involved with work that he wouldn't know how to live life outside of being in the military.

He can’t help but concede that maybe they’re right after all.

Hanji drops by when she's not too busy with her research, still as enthusiastic and excitable as ever, even if she's retired from active field duty now. She usually spends the first hour of her visits telling him in extensive detail about her latest discoveries, and the second hour pestering Erwin to get married or to open a tea shop or to raise chickens to so he can sell their eggs at the nearby farmer’s market-

"No woman will want a man with only one arm," Erwin says matter-of-factly, interrupting her before she can go on any further, and he calmly points to the empty sleeve where his right arm used to be.

Hanji snorts. "Don't give me that, you're _the_ Commander Erwin Smith, the only reason why you don't have people left and right flinging themselves at you is because-"

He doesn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he stops her again. "Hanji. Please."

She sighs, relenting for once. "Okay, okay. Just don't kill yourself brooding, Erwin. You don't want to die a grumpy old man, do you?"

"I am _not_ brooding, and I am certainly _not_ a grumpy old man," Erwin says, pretending to sound indignant. And it's amazing how so much more at ease they are with each other now that they aren't constantly looking death in the face like how they used to, no longer living with the dark shadow of the knowledge that the very next day might be their last day alive. It's times like these when Erwin can’t help but think that maybe things would have been different with Levi had they not met in the midst of war-

"Whatever you say, grandpa," Hanji says as she stands up to leave. She cheerily swats him on the back on her way out.

Armin comes by regularly too, often with Eren and Mikasa in tow. He's now the Scouting Legion's head strategist, always eager to hear his former Commander's opinion on his latest plans, and they spend hours and hours together poring over maps and sheets and sheets of drafts at Erwin's tiny kitchen table.

"You shouldn't have retired, Sir," Armin says almost sadly after one such session, as Erwin helps him roll up the maps and put them away back into their storage tubes. They're going out on an expedition in a few months, and Armin looks positively drained, exhaustion and worry etched deep across his face. It makes him look far older than he really is.

Erwin absently wonders if he looked like that too when he was Commander.

"A strategist won't be of much use if he's unable to personally oversee the battle," Erwin reminds him. "There's only so much information you can obtain from reading reports."

"You've still helped us a lot," Eren argues, as stubborn as he's always been. Some things just never change, even now that the three friends are mature adults and skilled soldiers in their own rights.

The conversation gradually turns to other, lighter affairs. It helps Erwin takes his mind off things, and he’s silently grateful for that.

“We should be leaving soon,” Eren says finally, when it’s long turned dark outside and the firewood Mikasa brought in while he and Armin were busy with their strategies is burning away merrily in the tiny fireplace. “I’m sorry that we keep coming here, I hope we’re not bothering you too much,” he adds, although the tone of his voice suggests that he is completely unapologetic about the fact. “And um... Yeah.”

“ _Eren_ ,” Mikasa says pointedly.

Eren visibly grimaces.

The three of them exchange glances. Erwin looks at them, slightly confused, but waits.

“What Eren means to say is,” Mikasa says stiffly, “we’re wondering how you’re doing. Next week… It’s going to be exactly seven years since then, isn’t it?”

Erwin stares down at his cup of tea. “Yes,” he says quietly. Then, a little louder and surer of himself, “Levi would have been pleased to see you such capable fighters now.”

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispers. It’s not the first time he has apologized to Erwin. “If I had been strong enough back then-“

“Stop it,” Erwin says, more firmly this time. His voice naturally takes on a more authoritative tone as he continues. “Focus on the preparations for the expedition. We’re already on the brink of victory; too many men have given their lives for us to have been able to come this far, make it your goal to see to it that they did not die in vain.”

“That sounds like something he would say,” Eren says, a bleak crooked smile tugging at a corner of his lips.

“He hated seeing people die,” Erwin agrees.

They leave on a more somber note, Armin promising to drop by again soon when he’s finished adding Erwin’s modifications and fine-tuning his plans. Erwin briefly stands in his doorway, watching after their retreating backs, and he suddenly remembers the words Levi would say to his dying men: “ _Your spirit will remain with me and give me strength_ ,” because it certainly does feel like Levi’s spirit has been watching over the Legion ever since, he thinks. And then he closes the door and returns to his all too ordinary, quiet life.

 

 

Erwin goes to the farmer’s market early every Saturday morning, early enough that the carts are still full of fresh produce and he can take his time leisurely walking through the stalls, free from the stares and entirely not-too-quiet whispers that complete strangers exchange as he passes by. Of course his fame precedes him, even now, a former Commander of the Scouting Legion, especially one who was in service during a remarkably memorable period of the still ongoing war – the fall of Maria, the discovery of titan shifters, and he’s supposedly one of the best military tacticians humanity will have ever known, _how_ unfortunate that he went into early retirement due to the loss of his arm.

Sometimes the whispers are more malicious; there has and there will always be people who see the Legion and their daring ideals as a drain on public taxes and funds, people who are more in support of strengthening their defenses instead of going on the offensive against the titans. Erwin is no stranger to being openly spoken about, but after a while it wore even him down.

It’s one of those Saturday mornings, when Erwin finds _him_.

“They’re becoming more daring again, those godforsaken kids,” the sprightly old woman who owns the small fruit stall complains to Erwin, as she packs apples and peaches into a paper bag for him. “Where are the Military Police, I’ll like to know. They used to come around every now and then, round up them Underground street urchins, give them a good enough scare that they stay away from causing trouble for a few days. I had three different kids stealing from me yesterday, and if I had the strength and energy to run after them I would have given them the beating of their lives!”

“Yes, they did tend to give us a bit of a headache,” Erwin offers her a small smile as he passes over a handful of coins for the fruits.

The woman snorts. “ _A bit_? A bit of a headache, you say? You – ah, look, there’s one of them now.”

Erwin hears the commotion even before he can turn around to witness it; a loud crash as a heavy crate of potatoes falls over, smashing into pieces and emptying its contents all over the ground. A small, dark figure dashes out from behind the crate, nimbly sidesteps the mess before him even with a large loaf of bread clutched in his hands, and disappears into the narrow passageway between two nearby shops. His pursuers, a pair of large men, one of them in baker’s overalls, attempt to follow after him but slip almost comically on the potatoes.

Erwin snaps into action on pure instinct, dropping the bag of fruits back onto the woman’s cart and taking off after the thief. A strange sense of déjà vu overcomes him as he runs through the alley, and a few seconds later he realises that this is one of the many paths winding through the back lanes of the city that lead to the Underground.

There’s a flash of black ahead of him and Erwin speeds up, reaches out-

The thief lets out a high, surprised yelp as Erwin grabs hold of the back of his too-large cloak and deftly spins him around to slam him against the wall. A c _hild_ , the thief is a mere child, a small boy not even half of Erwin’s height. The stolen loaf falls from his hands, but Erwin does not see it land on the ground, because the hood of the boy’s cloak has fallen to his shoulders and his captive is staring up at him with wide eyes, and Erwin is staring back at him.

_Levi_ , he looks _just like Levi_ , and Erwin’s grip on the boy’s shoulder tightens. His face is fuller, cheeks rounder and jawbone less prominent, but then the boy gets over his initial shock of having been caught and glares up at Erwin with alert, narrow eyes, thin lips pursed into a scowl, and Erwin is once again forcibly reminded of Levi.

“What’s your name, boy?” Erwin says. He doesn’t know how he manages to keep his voice steady even in his shock, but somehow he does.

The boy twists about, attempting to free himself from Erwin, and Erwin grips him even harder that it has to hurt. But Erwin is far stronger, and he stops struggling long enough to spit at him.

“You bastard,” the boy hisses. “Let me go.”

“I asked you for your name,” Erwin says again, forceful and commanding, and he sees the boy finally wince in pain, although he does not shrink away from Erwin, completely unafraid of him.

“Levi,” the boy says resentfully.

“Levi,” Erwin says, and this time his voice breaks a little.

“Let me go,” the boy – _Levi_ – repeats.

“Only if you do not run away,” Erwin says.  “My name is Erwin Smith. I promise not to hurt you or to hand you over to the Police. As you can see, I only have one arm, so I cannot do much to you. Now, do you promise to stay?”

Levi’s eyes flash to Erwin’s right arm, or what’s left of it, and Erwin sees his eyes widen as he notes the empty sleeve where Erwin’s right hand should have been. An odd look crosses his face for just the tiniest fraction of a second, and then he seems to make up his mind.

“Okay,” Levi says. “Let me go.”

Erwin’s grip tightens briefly in an unspoken warning to Levi to stay put, then he releases him. Levi stays completely still, remaining as he is, back pressed up against the dirty wall. 

“How old are you? And where are your parents?” Erwin asks, but he knows the answer to the second question even before he hears it. Many of the Underground children are orphans, parents dead or likewise abandoned. Even if they did have parents, more often than not they received so little care and love that it hardly matters.

“Seven. Or Eight? I don’t know. And they’re dead,” Levi answers, face expressionless. “What do you want from me?”

_Seven_. Erwin crouches down so he can look Levi directly in the eyes. Levi is tiny, now that he has a closer look at him; Erwin is already bending on one knee but he still has to tilt his head down slightly to face Levi. “Come with me,” he says gently. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

This time Levi flinches, shrinking away and pulling his cloak tighter around him. “No,” he says, and his eyes dart around Erwin, clearly looking for a means of escape.

It’s not hard for Erwin to understand the body language behind Levi’s reaction. “ _Oh_ , Levi,” he says. He knows the kind of lives that the children of the Underground live. Then he continues, “I live not far from here, it shouldn’t take more than half an hour if we walk fast. Do you want breakfast? Come with me, I’ll give you something to eat. Then you can leave if you want, I won’t stop you.”

“Breakfast,” Levi repeats suspiciously. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you if you come with me,” Erwin says. He straightens up and turns to walk away. “And you can take a bath too if you want.”

“A bath?” Erwin wonders if he’s imagining it, but Levi’s tone seems to sound less suspicious and slightly hopeful.

“Yes,” Erwin says, starting to walk away. He doesn’t look back at Levi, but something tells him that Levi will follow him. “A meal and a bath, that’s all. You’re free to leave after that.”

Levi follows him.

 

 

Levi walks quietly behind him all the way back to his house, not saying a single word the entire way except to murmur a quiet, “ _fucking bastard,_ ” at one point, and Erwin guesses it was probably aimed at him. But he decides to choose to not say anything about such vulgar language coming from a child and continues walking.

Erwin directs Levi to wash his hands at the sink then seats him at the kitchen table. Levi is so small that his chin just reaches the top of the table. Nevertheless Erwin firmly instructs him to sit still and quite surprisingly he obeys without a single word.

Erwin stacks the bags of produce from the market haphazardly on the counter and sets about preparing breakfast. The kettle is already filled with water, so he puts it over the fire to boil. Meanwhile he cuts four thick slices of brown bread and arranges them on two plates, with generous chunks of cheese and butter.

He senses Levi watching him closely as he carries the food to the table – he has to make two trips to bring both plates over.

“There’s more if this isn’t enough,” Erwin says, placing one of the plates in front of Levi. “It’s simple fare, but if you stay for lunch I can prepare something better.” It’s an indirect invitation for Levi to not leave right after he finishes the meal, but Levi doesn’t call him out on it.

Instead Levi stares at the food before him with wide eyes, then looks at Erwin. “Thank you,” he says quietly, oddly polite.

For a while, Erwin just watches as Levi eats. Levi does not eat like how one expects a child living on the streets to eat; not surprisingly he struggles with the butter knife at first, awkwardly maneuvering it about, but he manages to carefully cut himself a neat slice of cheese and transfer it to the bread. He has to get up on his knees to do it, but then he tears off small pieces of bread and sits back down to eat. He eats slowly, and chews with his mouth closed. It’s a charming sight, and Erwin nearly forgets about his own food.

The kettle whistles, and Erwin gets up to take it off the fire. He usually has strong black coffee for breakfast, but this time on Levi’s account, he makes tea in a pot, and stirs in a little sugar to sweeten it. Again he has to make two trips to the kitchen table, carrying the pot and two teacups for the both of them.

Levi watches him as he pours out the tea. Erwin pushes a cup over to him.

“Let it cool down a little first,” Erwin says. “It’s tea.”

“Okay,” Levi says.

Erwin continues eating, occasionally glancing across the table to watch Levi. A few times Levi catches him looking and glares, but Erwin simply smiles at him and Levi turns away with a quiet huff. Soon both their plates are cleared, and Erwin picks up his tea, then stops.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologises, and reaches out to pick up Levi’s cup to hand it to him.

“I can get it myself,” Levi snaps resentfully, again getting up on his knees to reach out for it.

Erwin wordlessly sets the cup back down in front of Levi, conceding defeat; Levi is clearly more capable than an average child of his age is.

Levi gives Erwin one last look of irritation, but taking his cue from Erwin’s silence, he does not say anything further.

And then he picks up his cup, not by its handle, but his hand delicately closes over the rim of the cup, and he lifts it to his lips and drinks.

Erwin freezes with his cup halfway to his mouth, and he has to place his cup back down before he spills it over the table.

“Levi,” Erwin says.

Levi blinks at him over his fingers. “What?” He looks genuinely confused.

“... Nothing,” Erwin says. “Are you still hungry? I’ll get you more bread.”

Levi carefully puts his cup down and considers Erwin’s question. Erwin can tell he wants more, but is afraid to ask for more.

“Maybe later,” Levi says at last, looking down at his tea and refusing to look at Erwin. “After… After the bath.”

“I’ll get the bath ready.” Erwin stands up and leaves the kitchen. He leaves his bedroom door wide open so Levi can follow him, and walks across the small room to the bathroom. He tries not to read too much into the strange boy’s actions, because _his_ Levi can’t possibly be the only one with such odd, specific mannerisms. But the thought continues to nag at him as he turns on the tap and watches as the water slowly fills the tub. Levi is gone, is _dead_ , this odd child _cannot_ be Levi because _Levi is dead_ -

“Erwin?”

Erwin turns to see Levi standing in the doorway, hesitant and awkward.

“Take off your clothes and toss them outside, I’ll wash them for you,” Erwin instructs. “You can use anything you want in here. I’ll get you one of my shirts to wear in the meantime, I hope you don’t mind. I don’t have any children’s clothes around.”

Erwin steps out of the bathroom and gently pushes Levi in, closing the door behind him to allow him privacy. He waits for Levi to hand him his clothes, and when he does, Erwin is a little surprised – Levi has folded them into a neat, tidy stack. It’s probably nearly all the clothes he currently owns, Erwin thinks as he pulls out the large washbasin under the kitchen sink. The shirt is threadbare and too large for Levi, the creases on the sleeves indicating that Levi has to roll them up all the way to the elbows, and the pants are worn and similarly rolled up at the legs.

Erwin wonders if his neighbours would have any old children’s clothes they will let him have for Levi. Erwin knows the old lady living alone next door has three adult children, she might have kept some of their old clothes. He slips out to ask her, and comes back with a small armful of musty old shirts and pants. He selects a few that smell the cleanest, and the rest of it goes into the washbasin along with Levi’s own clothes.

When he returns to check on Levi, he finds Levi sitting on the edge of his bed, looking wary and confused but thoroughly satisfied. He’s wearing one of Erwin’s shirts, clearly having gone through Erwin’s wardrobe for it. The shirt is so big that it falls nearly to his feet, and it makes him look even tinier. It’s kind of adorable, and without thinking Erwin reaches out to affectionately ruffle Levi’s damp hair.

“Don’t touch me,” Levi says, but his tone is significantly less snappy now. He wriggles away.

“I got you some clothes from my neighbour,” Erwin tells him. He sits down on the bed next to Levi, and Levi shifts even further away from him. “Levi, I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you. Now, do you want to stay for lunch?”

Levi looks at him suspiciously. “What exactly do you want from me, old man? And you still haven’t told me why you’re doing this.”

“Stay for lunch and I’ll tell you,” Erwin offers.

“I want to know _now_.”

Erwin looks at him, the young boy who looks and behaves and talks so much like _his_ Levi.

“You remind me of someone,” Erwin tells him. “Someone I love a lot.”

“Oh.” Levi is unimpressed with his explanation. He sits back on his heels to eye Erwin disdainfully. “Who?”

“We used to work together; he was a very good friend. He died in the war.”

“Oh.” Levi seems to soften a little at that.

 “His name was Levi too,” Erwin says.

Levi raises an eyebrow at Erwin. It’s an extremely unsettling expression to see on a seven-year-old’s face. “You are one fucking creepy bastard,” he declares.

 

 

Levi stays for lunch. After a few hours of Levi stumbling around the house in Erwin’s shirt, Erwin hands him the clothes from the lady next door. Levi scrunches his nose up at them, torn between wearing Erwin’s clean shirt and putting on more appropriately-fitting clothes. In the end, he shoves the old clothes back into Erwin’s hand.

“They smell like shit,” he says in disgust.

Erwin doesn’t argue. He draws more water into a bucket and tosses them in.

  

 

Levi stays for dinner, too. He spends the whole day sitting by the window, silently watching Erwin as Erwin goes about his day. Erwin cleans a little, reads the papers, rearranges the books on his bookshelves, a task he’s been meaning to do for a while.

“You’re boring,” Levi says, after a few hours of this. “Don’t you do anything interesting, or are you just a naturally boring person?”

“I’m sorry,” Erwin apologised. “I should have known you would get bored. What do you want to do?”

Levi stares at him. “Nothing,” he says in the end. “But you should redo your bookshelves, the glass panes are still smudged.”

Erwin turns to look at the offending piece of furniture. There are the faintest marks of fingerprints on one, single pane.

Levi lets out an en exaggerated sigh, slipping off his seat and holding out his hand for a washcloth. “Hand it over, I’ll do it,” he says. “Consider it as my way of thanking you for the food.”

 

  

“You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to,” Erwin says to Levi. “I’ll find you a better place to stay, a place that takes in children like you.”

Levi is curled up on his couch, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. It’s slowly turning dark outside, and Levi is fresh from his second bath after dinner. He’s in more appropriately-sized clothing now, and he looks positively comfortable and contented as he hugs a cushion to himself.

“What, you bastard,” Levi says sleepily, “first you bring me back, and now you want me out of your house?”

“I want you to stay,” Erwin says carefully. “But I won’t force you to-”

“I want to stay,” Levi says. “Where do I sleep?”

“You can have my bed,” Erwin says. The couch should be large enough for him to sleep on, and he’ll make do with it until he can get Levi a camp bed – if Levi decides to stay.

“And where will _you_ sleep?”

“I’ll manage,” Erwin says simply, standing up. “Come on.”

Levi looks absolutely tiny tucked up in Erwin’s large bed, and Erwin cannot resist reaching down to pet him on the head. Levi growls at the touch but does not move away, his eyes sleepily but steadily tracking Erwin’s movements across the room as he pulls out a spare blanket from his cupboards.

“Good night, Levi,” Erwin says. “Do you want me to leave the candle burning?”

Levi snorts. “I’m not a baby. Put it out.”

Erwin puts the candle out and gently shuts the bedroom door after him.

 

 

When Erwin wakes up the next morning, his body is aching all over and he feels more drained than rested. The house is silent, and for a long moment Erwin wonders if Levi has run off in the middle of the night. He doesn’t put it past him to do that, and he’s genuinely surprised when he enters the kitchen to find Levi sitting there patiently with breakfast already set out on the table.

“I couldn’t get the kettle, it was too heavy for me to lift,” Levi says. “You’ll have to do that yourself.”

Erwin isn’t sure if he was imagining things, but Levi looks exhausted, as though he was awake all night. His eyes are swollen and bloodshot, but he doesn’t seem to look particularly unhappy. When the tea is done, Levi obligingly slides off his seat to fetch his own cup so Erwin only needs to make a single trip to the kitchen table.

“You look tired,” Erwin observes.

“I slept perfectly okay,” Levi says defensively. Then he promptly changes the topic by calling Erwin’s kitchen a ‘complete fucking mess,’ and declares that he’s going to help Erwin clean it up today.

The first three days they spend together, they follow the same morning routine; Erwin sleeping on the couch and waking up to find that Levi already up before him. Levi continues to look thoroughly exhausted, and it’s not until the third night that Erwin discovers why.

The house is dark and quiet, and it takes Erwin a while to realize what woke him up; he hears a little sniffle and turning around in the direction of the sound, he sees a small figure slumped in the chair opposite him, arms curled up around a couch cushion.

“Levi?” he whispers.

Levi continues to whimper quietly, evidently in the middle of a nightmare. Erwin sits up with a slight groan, amazed. Has Levi been sleeping out here with him every night? He stands up and quietly pads across the living room to Levi.

“Levi?” Erwin crouches down.

 Levi’s eyes snap open, wide and frightened. He sucks in an unsteady breath and stares unseeingly at Erwin, eyes unfocused and swollen.

“Erwin,” Levi says shakily. “Erwin.”

Erwin reaches out to gather Levi in his arm. He pulls him close, “I’m here, Levi,” he murmurs. He feels Levi’s small hands clutching tightly at his shirt. “I’m here.”

Erwin waits until he feels Levi’s small body stop shaking against his, then stands up, awkwardly balancing him against his chest. “Let’s get you to bed now, shall we?” he says gently. But the moment Erwin lays Levi back onto the bed, Levi’s arms shoot out to grab onto his hand.

“Stay with me,” Levi pleads. His eyes are still red from crying.

Erwin stops, unsure. When he’s awake, Levi shies away from any physical contact, even seeming to despise it. But Levi does not let go, and Erwin shifts Levi slightly so he can lie down next to him. Levi immediately curls up against him, fingers reaching out to touch Erwin’s nightshirt as though he needs constant reassurance that Erwin is nearby.

 

  

Erwin does not want to assume that this Levi, the strange child he picked up that day, is _his_ old Levi. But this Levi is certainly odd, intelligent and sharp, and quite unlike any other child he’s ever known. He is mature, far too mature for his age, and more often than not he speaks and swears like a young adult. When Erwin takes him out to the shops or to the park, Levi refuses to play or even speak with the other children they meet; he turns his nose up at them and mutters insults under his breath.

But this Levi is also so much like _his_ Levi that Erwin frequently wonders if this is fate’s idea of a cruel joke. This Levi, too, is calm and quiet; he is also quick and nimble on his feet. He’s taken to making it a hobby to climb the large cedar tree that grows behind their house, pulling himself up and hopping effortlessly from branch to branch like a wild cat. He is completely at ease with himself even with neither of his feet anywhere near solid ground, and the soldier in Erwin wonders what marvels this Levi can be capable of, too, if he’s put into three-dimensional maneuver gear.

Once Erwin found him standing on the roof of their house, gleefully skipping across the tiles like it’s all a little game to him, with absolutely no clear explanation as to why he was up there, or how he managed to climb up, other than a brief, sulky, “I just wanted to see if I could still do it,” when Erwin angrily orders him down.

Levi does that a lot; he often says things that no normal child should say, or be even capable of understanding. And sometimes he says things that completely throw Erwin off guard and makes him think that this child might very well be _his_ old Levi after all, but Levi always declines to elaborate, often getting upset when Erwin presses him for an explanation, so Erwin learns to ignore it when it happens.

“What’s happening? You look constipated,” Levi casually comments, dropping into the couch next to Erwin. “Couldn’t shit this morning?”

Erwin’s lips unwillingly twitches, but he’s not sure if it’s out of amusement or something else entirely. “No,” he says, trying to keep his voice even, and he folds up the letter he was reading. It’s from Armin, informing him that all the plans for the upcoming expedition are going on well.

“Last night, then,” Levi concludes. “Couldn’t shit last night?”

“ _Levi._ ”

“Yup, you’re definitely constipated all right,” Levi says uncaringly.

“Levi, that is not funny at all,” Erwin says, and instantly his heart stops as he remembers saying this exact same line to the _other_ Levi, in response to the exact same deadpan joke-

“ _Levi, asking someone if they’re constipated is not the proper way of saying hello_ ,” Levi says in a perfect imitation of Erwin’s polished, crisp upper Sina accent.

Erwin’s hand shoots out to grip Levi painfully on the shoulder. Levi jumps in shock.

“Levi, where did you learn that?” Erwin asks. It’s hard to keep the desperation and confusion out of his voice.

“Learn… what?” Levi says, his voice suddenly small and distant. He wriggles, looking quite upset now. “Let go, you’re hurting me.”

“Answer me,” Erwin says, half commanding, half pleading, because he doesn’t understand any of this, this strange child called Levi, and if he doesn’t get answers-

“Let me go,” Levi says, looking frightened and anxious now. “I don’t know, I don’t know anything, let me go!”

Erwin releases Levi, suddenly guilty and ashamed. “I’m… sorry,” he whispers. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t know,” Levi repeats weakly. He pulls his knees up to his chest, curling up into a defensive ball. “I don’t know, Erwin, I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Erwin says at last. “Okay.”

  

 

“Erwin.”

Levi lets himself into Erwin’s study without knocking. Erwin silently raises an eyebrow at Levi and goes back to his work – he’s penning a response to an invitation from the current Head of the MP, requesting his presence at a formal military ball as a guest of honour. The party will be in two months, but an RSVP is included in the invitation letter.

Levi clearly feels slighted at being ignored, because he strides right up to Erwin’s desk. “Erwin. Erwin. Erwiiiiiinnnn.”

“Levi,” Erwin starts sternly, “you have to learn to knock before entering rooms, and not to interrupt people when they’re working.”

“But Erwiiinnn,” Levi whines. “I’m bored.”

“Were you even listening to what I was saying?”

“Nope.” Levi places his palms on the edge of Erwin’s desk and hoists himself up with surprising strength so he can sit on the edge of the desk, legs dangling and kicking over the sides.

“Levi. Get off the table.”

Levi scowled but did not budge. “But you never used to mind it.”

“Did I, now,” Erwin says pointedly, barely registering Levi’s words as he goes back to his letter.

Levi is quiet for a while, watching disinterestedly as Erwin continues to write. Evidently it is far too dull for him, because soon he starts up again.

“Erwin, Erwin, Erwin,” he chants, punctuating each exaggerated pronunciation of Erwin’s name with a swing and kick of his legs. “Erwiiiiiinnn.”

“Levi,” Erwin warns, his patience starting to wear thin, and then he looks up and sees the grin on Levi’s face; Levi is deliberately doing it to annoy him, and he knows he’s succeeding.

Erwin has no experience in dealing with children; he is capable of slaying titans, he can hold his own in a court of scheming, cunning politicians and military heads, he can stand at the head of a column of fresh, young soldiers and order them to their deaths, but he has never had to deal with such a petulant, mischievous child.

“I’m bored,” Levi complains again. “Take me out to the park, I want to climb the trees again.”

“I’m not taking you out anywhere if this is the way you’re going to behave,” Erwin says evenly.

“Jeez, you’re such an old man, you know that? Stop being constipated all the time.”

Erwin calmly puts down his pen. When he speaks, his voice is steady and holds just the barest hint of the threat of punishment. “Levi. Get off the table. _Now_.”

Levi stares at him, but obediently slides off to land neatly on his feet. Erwin waits, waits until Levi begins to fidget in impatience.

“Erwin,” Levi whines.

“I don’t want to have to discipline you,” Erwin says, “now stand there and wait quietly for me to finish my work. I will attend to you when I’m done.”

“But Erwin-”

“Silence,” Erwin snaps, and he sees Levi visibly stiffen in shock at the sudden, harsh reprimand. He feels guilty that he has to do this, but no, he has to, or Levi will grow up a selfish, spoiled child and Erwin wants the best for him.

He returns to his writing, and for a long time the only sound audible in the room is the scratching of Erwin’s pen across the paper. He completes the RSVP and slips it into a plain envelope, then picks up another sheet of paper to add a more personal note to the Head of the MP; they are not friends, but he has helped Erwin a few times in the past that Erwin considers him an acquaintance.

Levi suddenly yawns, a mock yawn that’s loud and deliberate and meant to draw Erwin’s attention. Erwin’s hand clench around his pen, but he keeps quiet.

A few more seconds pass before Levi coughs, then proceeds to make a dirty sound that Erwin belatedly recognises to be an extremely good imitation of the sound of _faeces_ dropping into-

Erwin does not remember the _other_ Levi to be this unruly, but he supposes that it’s because Erwin never knew him as a young boy. Putting his pen down again, he gets up and moves to stand in front of Levi. Levi grins up at him, completely irrepressible, and for a moment Erwin is at a complete loss – how does one discipline a child?

Erwin bends down on one knee to look Levi squarely in the eye, and Levi blinks innocently at him, then very slowly and deliberately opens his mouth and makes that sound again.

Erwin snaps and reaches out to grip Levi’s jaw in his hand. Levi yelps and tries to wriggle away, but Erwin’s grip is solid and strong.

“What,” Erwin says dangerously, “did I tell you?”

Levi gazes back at him, bold and daring still, and then carefully says, “You fucking bastard.”

Erwin slaps him.

For a long, long time they silently gaze at each other, shocked. Levi’s eyes are suddenly bright with tears, a large red bruise spreading over his pale cheek, and Erwin stares at it, horrified and disgusted and angry at himself.

Levi whimpers.

“Oh god, _Levi_ ,” Erwin says hollowly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

He stretches out his hand towards Levi. Levi flinches but does not back away; instead he allows Erwin to gently cup his bruised cheek and thumb away at the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

“Erwin,” Levi says, and closes his eyes.

  

 

“Levi, get off the roof and get down here _now_. And don’t _jump off_ – LEVI!”

 

  

“Erwin? Did it hurt?”

At night, when it’s cold, Levi likes to curl up to Erwin in bed, his head pillowed on Erwin’s chest and snuggling against him. He’s small and light enough that Erwin hardly feels it, even if they both fall asleep that way. Levi is gently fingering the scar tissue on the stump of Erwin’s right arm, small cool fingers tracing the pale, raised ragged lines that will never completely fade away.

“It doesn’t hurt now,” Erwin says.

“I’m sorry,” Levi whispers – is he crying? Erwin can’t see, but he doesn’t dare to shift around to look, so he remains still – “I should have been there. I could have-”

“It’s not your fault, you had nothing to do with it at all,” Erwin says simply but sternly. “It’s-”

“I’m sorry,” Levi says softly, pressing his face against the stump of Erwin’s arm, and Erwin feels a little shake run through his small body when Levi lets out a muffled sob. “I’m sorry, I promised myself that I would never let anything happen to you but…” His voice breaks and trails off, and he starts to cry in earnest.

Erwin reaches over his left hand to pull him close. “Levi,” he says quietly, “I’m alive, aren’t I? I’m still here, and I’m alive.”

“You don’t get it!” Levi pulls himself up to glare at Erwin, and Erwin is shocked to see the tears in his eyes. Levi’s voice becomes higher and more distressed as he goes on. “You fucking bastard, you were so calm about it, like it didn’t mean anything at all to you, you didn’t get it back then and you still don’t get it now!”

Erwin’s blood runs cold in his veins. “Levi,” he says hoarsely, but Levi doesn’t seem to be listening.

“I was so scared,” Levi says, through furious tears. “And you just pretended that it was nothing-”

“ _Levi._ ” Erwin has not used that firm, no-nonsense tone of voice in over seven years, but he uses it now. “Stop it now and come here.”

Levi instantly freezes, eyes widening as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He stops shaking, but his eyes are still wet as he lies back down next to him, pressing a damp cheek to Erwin’s chest. Erwin holds him close, and it seems to comfort Levi.

“Never say that again,” Erwin says, still in that same commanding tone. “Never, ever say that again.” He holds Levi, stroking his back until he slowly stops trembling enough to calm down and finally falls asleep, exhausted and drained.

Erwin, on the other hand, does not sleep at all that night. 

Levi never brings up the topic of Erwin’s arm after that, and Erwin decides not to mention his little outburst, either.

  

 

“It stinks,” Levi mutters viciously, frowning in disgust. “It smells even worse than a toilet full of shit, do these people not fucking bathe-”

“Levi, _language_.”

They are on the way to town for groceries, but they’ve run into a huge crowd of people gathering by the main street, much to Levi’s displeasure. Erwin looks around and sees several Military Police officers standing at intervals along the road, waving for the crowd to maintain order. And then he looks a bit further and he sees the horses and carts and the familiar dark green cloaks of the Scouting Legion.

He has completely forgotten that they were due to leave for their expedition today. Levi, he thinks wryly; he has been so occupied with Levi lately that he’s lost track of the date.

There is a strange, twisting feeling in Erwin’s chest, a mixture of longing and sadness and nostalgia. The crowd around them thickens as more people come to watch, and Erwin has to catch hold of Levi’s hand in case they’re separated in the throng of people.

“What the fuck is even going on?” Levi complains. He’s too short to see over the heads of the crowd. A pair of excited young boys eagerly pushes past Levi to get to the front; Levi growls and aims a kick at them but thankfully misses.

Erwin pulls him closer, tugging sharply on Levi’s hand in an unspoken warning to behave. “It’s the Scouting Legion,” he explains, and then he pauses briefly, considering his options. Then he crouches down to scoop Levi up in his arm.

Levi is taken aback to be picked up so suddenly, letting out a small yelp of surprise when his feet leave the ground. But he recovers quickly and obediently hangs on, his curiosity getting the better of him. He’s light and small enough that Erwin has no trouble balancing him against his shoulder, and Levi obligingly wraps a hand around Erwin’s neck to steady himself.

“See them?” Erwin says. “Over there, the men in the dark green cloaks. They’re going out on an expedition outside the walls.”

Levi goes deathly silent.

Erwin starts to wonder if this is a mistake, if he shouldn’t have brought Levi away the moment he realised it was the Scouting Legion. The crowd jostles about, and Erwin finds himself somehow being pushed nearer to the front.

The Legion is approaching now, the hooves of the horses clipping sharply against the road, the wheels of the carts rattling, and it’s such a familiar sound to Erwin that his gut twists again in sadness. The man at the head of the column, Commander Imanuel, a solder Erwin remembers from Petra and Oluo’s old trainee class, sees Erwin standing in the crowd and salutes to him; Erwin nods in acknowledgement and smiles, and silently signals for him to stand at ease.

Eren is near the top of the column too, Armin close behind him, followed by the rest of their squad. Mikasa is slightly further away, with her own squad. Erwin quickly picks out the familiar faces with ease – he’s still as sharp and observant as he used to be – there’s Jean behind Mikasa, Sasha fussing over one of the carts. He sees Commander Imanuel turn around and speak swiftly to Eren, and Eren turns to look Erwin’s direction.

Eren’s eyes widen when he spots them, and if he’s noticed the little boy with Erwin who looks so much like Levi, he doesn’t show it. Eren salutes to him too, and Erwin nods again.

Erwin turns his attention to Levi. He’s still quiet, staring at green-cloaked soldiers with a strange, confused expression on his face. “Levi? Have you heard of the Scouting Legion?”

Levi ignores his question. He’s staring directly at Eren, his gaze troubled and intense, and he’s worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. Then he suddenly lights up as though in recognition, and actually _laughs_.

“It’s Eren,” Levi breathes. “He’s alive, Erwin, he’s alive!”

“Yes, Eren’s alive,” Erwin finds himself saying. He ignores the chill than runs down his spine; Erwin has never mentioned Eren’s name to Levi. He doesn’t know what makes him say it, but the words just spill from his mouth. “You saved his life, him and his sister Mikasa, and Armin. Remember? He’s the captain of the second squad now.”

_You died saving their lives, Levi. And look at them now._

Levi whips around to look down at Erwin, and there’s a huge, childish grin on his face. “Eren,” he says, laughing. “ _Major_ Eren Jaeger. That shitty brat is a Major now?”

“Language-” Erwin automatically starts, but he gives up, because Levi is positively beaming, his eyes bright with childlike happiness, and Erwin can’t find it in his heart to chastise him now. And now the strange twisting in his chest is replaced by something else entirely; a feeling of wonder and dread and fear, and again Erwin wonders who this strange boy is, because…

Levi giggles and encircles Erwin’s neck with both his small hands, and demands that Erwin carry him like this all the way into town.

  

 

The days pass into weeks, weeks into months, and Erwin grows more attached to Levi, and Levi to him. And Levi, Erwin notices with a slight chill, seems to turn more and more childlike with every passing day. He stops behaving like the adult Levi, the _old_ Levi, and more like a normal child. He becomes more relaxed and playful, and he’s constantly smiling and laughing around the house.  

It’s just one of the many creepily odd things about Levi that Erwin has to force himself to ignore. But one day, Levi comes up to Erwin while he’s sitting in his usual couch by the window, reading the evening papers.

“Erwin, I have something to tell you,” Levi says quite seriously.

Erwin folds the papers and puts them aside. “What is it?”

“I think,” Levi says thoughtfully, “maybe I was clinging on to the past so much because I really, really wanted to come back to you. I promised to follow you forever, so it was the only thing I could think of, all the time, coming back to you. I was worried that I would forget, I had to keep forcing myself to remember everything.”

Erwin has no idea how to respond to this, but it feels like Levi is telling him something they both know that neither of them will ever fully understand. Levi climbs up onto his lap and gives him a sloppy grin.

“But you found me, again,” Levi says. He rests his head on Erwin’s chest. “Thank you, you’ve saved me twice already. But Erwin, I think I can let go now.”

“If that’s what you want,” Erwin says. He runs his hand through Levi’s hair; it’s getting long, Levi’s going to need another haircut again soon.

Levi closes his eyes, humming contently. “Yes, I want to. It’s tiring to have to remember. Sometimes it hurts too, maybe because it’s not supposed to be this way, but there are some things…” His voice trails off, and it’s a while before he continues, “but you will remember for me, won’t you? Erwin.”

“Levi,” Erwin whispers. His heart aches so much that it feels almost like a physical pain, and he hugs Levi even tighter. Levi is still smiling softly, a peaceful, contented smile, and Erwin feels a strange wetness in his eyes. He blinks it away, but his eyes just swell up again.

“I’ll never forget you,” he promises.

“Good,” Levi murmurs. “Just make sure I don’t grow up a shitty brat, will you? Goodbye, Commander Erwin Smith.”

Levi’s body suddenly relaxes, his breathing slowing and evening out. He’s fallen asleep. Erwin shifts him into a more comfortable position, lowering him down to lie on the couch, his upper body pillowed on Erwin’s lap. Levi looks so happy and properly relaxed now that Erwin feels his heart break again.

Erwin sits back, his hand resting almost possessively on Levi’s small shoulder, and he waits for Levi to wake up.

  

 

After that, Levi is almost completely like a normal child; he stops swearing, he’s less uptight, and much to Erwin’s relief, he stops attempting to climb up onto the roof, even if he does continue to climb trees. Erwin supposes it’s just in Levi’s blood, so he lets him. Levi gets into fights and throws tantrums and screams at Erwin and cries, but he’s also cheerful and content and happily helps Erwin around the house, taking over the cleaning and doing the laundry.

Levi refuses to go to school so Erwin tutors him, teaching him to read and write and count. Levi is intelligent and learns fast, and soon he’s curling up next to Erwin in the evenings as Erwin reads the paper, reading over his shoulder and demanding to discuss politics and the ongoing war with him.

Erwin always tries to direct his attention elsewhere, but Levi’s interest in the war is unshakeable.

“Levi,” Erwin says at last, after countless times of trying to engage Levi in a discussion about what they should prepare for dinner, in an attempt to distract Levi from asking about the war, the titans, the war, because that’s all he seems to want to talk about when he gets into one of his moods. “Why are you so interested in the war?”

Erwin will never admit it to Levi, but he’s afraid. Afraid that Levi’s interest in the ongoing war will lead to him enrolling in the army, afraid that the old Levi might still be there, because _this_ Levi seems so happy and well-adjusted to his new life.

Erwin has already forced Levi into the army once, a long time ago, and it ended with him dying for it. It’s Erwin’s way of making it up to him, and he knows he’s doing it in an entirely selfish way, but-

_I don’t want to lose you again, Levi._

Levi scowls, then sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding frustrated. “I just… Erwin, I can’t explain it, but I feel like it’s something important to me.”

_So he doesn’t remember?_ Erwin smiles almost sadly at Levi. “It’s dangerous, Levi.”

“I _know_ ,” Levi says. “But you were in it too, yourself.”

“That was a long time ago,” Erwin counters. “Levi, please do not tell me that you intend on enlisting.”

Levi is silent for a while, then he says, “Once, a long time ago, I made a promise to kill all the titans-”

Erwin’s heart stops.

“- but it feels like it was in a dream,” Levi says ruefully, grinning sheepishly. “But,” he adds, his eyes suddenly bright and steely with determination, “You never told me exactly what your role was in the war, but I know you were Commander of the Scouting Legion. I want to join the Scouting Legion too, and do what you did.”

Erwin closes his eyes and leans back. “I am getting old, Levi-”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Levi says with a frown. “You’re not _getting_ old, you’re just turning into a grouchy old constipated prune.”

“ _Levi_.”

    

 

When Levi turns thirteen, he enlists in military training. The trainers personally invite Erwin to the training grounds to watch Levi in action; they’ve never seen anyone that good with maneuver gear before, and Erwin watches silently as Levi flies through the air so fast that he’s a blur, leaping from platform to platform and spinning through the air as though he’s been doing nothing else his entire life. When Levi suddenly performs a complicated little maneuver that Erwin and the _other_ Levi personally developed for the Scouting Legion so many years ago, Erwin feels his heart twist and break and overflow with pride all at the same time.

It’s not a maneuver that they teach the trainees.

  

 

Levi graduates at the top of his class, and joins the Scouting Legion.

He manages three solo kills on his first mission alone, shocking everyone but Erwin. People notice his physical resemblance to the late Corporal Levi, and they start talking about him, wondering if this young soldier is a relative of the man who was once called humanity’s strongest soldier.

It’s not long before he’s promoted to Squad Leader, and it’s rumoured that he’s being tapped as the next Commander of the Scouting Legion. After all, it’s said that he’s Erwin Smith’s foster son, which can only mean that this young man is destined for greatness.

At least, Erwin thinks with a heavy heart, he doesn’t need to worry about Levi fending for himself now; Erwin _is_ getting old, and-

“Don’t you fucking dare die before I get to become commander,” Levi tells Erwin furiously. “Fucking _selfish_ bastard.”

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

Victory, so close yet so far. Just one last battle, the final fight in the war that has centuries, that will determine the survival or extinction of the human race.

Levi knows he will not survive. His squad will be the next to final squad to advance into battle, the elite team that everyone's going to be counting on to weaken if not slay the final few but most powerful titans. It is essentially a suicide mission, but one that will almost undoubtedly ensure humanity's victory in the end.

"Erwin," Levi calls softly.

The young boy quizzically looks over at him. He’s six years old, with intense blue eyes and neat blonde hair. Levi found him a little over a year ago wandering near the Scouting Legion’s barracks, the son of a noble family who ran away from home. Nobody knows how he managed to get so far out from Sina all by himself, and Erwin has never deigned to explain it.

“What is it, Sir?” Erwin asks.

Erwin always seems to be able to sense whenever Levi is troubled. He comes up to him and wraps his small hands around Levi’s own.

"I'll wait for you. I promise." His fingers tighten around Levi's hand, and Levi wonders not for the first time who this child truly is, and if he can really read his mind, because then he continues, "Even if you don't come back alive, I'll continue looking for you."

Levi’s throat constricts, and he nods. “I’ll win this war for you, Erwin. I promise,” he says hollowly.

“I know, you said that the last time too,” Erwin says. “But this time should be it, I think. Now go forth, Commander Levi Smith. For humanity.” And he smiles.

  

**Author's Note:**

> ... It was supposed to be something sweet and fluffy, but halfway it mutated into something terribly depressing, I'm sorry DX


End file.
